


Stains

by bloodyenochian



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Blow Jobs, M/M, Plot What Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-28
Updated: 2012-02-28
Packaged: 2017-10-31 21:17:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 379
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/348451
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bloodyenochian/pseuds/bloodyenochian
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Those stains will be hell to get out." he pointed at his trousers. "They were 700 quid, Mycroft is going to kill me."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stains

**Author's Note:**

> Wrote this for a friend's birthday, 25/09/2010  
> Love you, J. ;D

His breath hitched in his throat as John went down on his knees in front of him and unzipped his trousers. His shoulder blades pressed almost painfully into the door behind him, the hardness of the doorknob mirroring the hardness of his penis in front of him.  
John's hands were warm and lovely on him and he closed his eyes, letting his head fall back against the door and focussed entirely on his groin.  
John's hot breath seemed cold on the tip of his erection but oh so delicious. He heard himself mutter out to him, begging him to stop torturing him until John finally closed his mouth around the tip, the sensation of which nearly sents sparks flying inside him.  
He dug his fingers into the short, scruffy hair, careful not to tug too much and gently pulled him further onto himself.  
John's tongue swirled and danced over the top, his hand massaging the base of his cock with a hard grip and he knew he wouldn't last long, not in this state. He bit his lip as to not yell out when his friend carefully grazed his teeth along the underside of his swollen member, trying to steady himself by awkwardly holding onto the bookshelf next to him. He felt his knees go weak all too soon, unable to support himself any longer. John's hands grabbed his narrow hips and pressed him harder against the door, trying to steady him and stop him from pounding all too much into his poor skull but he needn't really worry about that all too much anyway.  
Biting into the back of his own hand to muffle his voice he came, shuddering into the other's mouth, nearly making him choke from the force.

John spat out onto the floor without thinking, wiping the corners of his mouth with his sleeve, then wiping away at the stains on Sherlock's expensive suit trousers.

Sherlock was hunched over, leaning his arms on his friend's shoulders, resting his head on John's, trying to steady his breath.

"Seems like you REALLY needed that." John teased. 

Sherlock laughed an awkward little laugh and nodded. 

"Those stains will be hell to get out." he pointed at his trousers. "They were 700 quid, Mycroft is going to kill me."


End file.
